


Six Pack of Beer

by KareliaSweet



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bottom Hannibal, First Time, M/M, Murder Husbands, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-23 00:43:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4856687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KareliaSweet/pseuds/KareliaSweet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the following Bryan Fuller quote:<br/>"I feel one is omnisexual and one is heterosexual and there’s a lot of influence going back and forth, who knows with a six pack of beer what would happen."</p><p>Will gets a six pack of beer. Things happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Have a beer with me.”

“What?”

Will sat down opposite Hannibal at the fire and set down a six-pack of Pilsner Urquell with a clank. Hannibal wrinkled his nose in unveiled disgust and Will sighed wearily.

Flame and smoke licked up against the starless sky. They had settled into a small cabin in the Adirondacks, one of the last of Hannibal’s available safe houses, and had lain low there for the better part of a month, allowing their wounds to heal and mend. Will had finally grown restless and taken a trip to the closest gas station, which was a three mile walk there and back. He was tired and thirsty, and he needed the burn of alcohol to dull his pounding brain.

“Hannibal, we’re in the middle of nowhere, the kind of wine they sell at gas stations would probably literally kill you. I know we could both use a drink. Just lower your standards for half a second and have a goddamn beer with me.”

He pulled a bottle from the cardboard container and threw it to Hannibal, who caught it automatically.

“Besides,” Will said, “how long has it been since you’ve had a real drink? Three years? You got shot before you could even enjoy a glass of wine.”

Will popped the top off his beer and then threw the opener to Hannibal.

“Anyway it’s made in the Czech Republic, I think? At least that’s close to where you’re from.”

He took a drink and grimaced. The stitches in his cheek had been newly removed and the alcohol stung slightly. He quickly decided there was no better way to dull the sting than to numb it completely and took another deep swig.

Hannibal looked at him with guarded tenderness. “You chose the beer based on its proximity to my place of origin?”

“I didn’t have much else to go on. I figured if I picked up Bud Light you’d stab me again.”

He chuckled wryly and Hannibal smiled.

“Two months,” Hannibal says, taking a meek sip.

“Huh?”

“It’s been two months. Since I’ve had a ‘real drink’.”

Will frowned perplexedly at him. “What? How?” He narrowed his eyes. “They _let_ you drink in there? Jesus, did they let you cook too?”

Hannibal gave a quirk of his mouth and Will shook his head in amazement.

“They let you _cook_?”

“Completely supervised,” Hannibal answered, “and none of my own ingredients. Mostly small dishes.”

Will continued to stare at him aghast.

“I was a model patient, Will.”

“Of course you were.” Will took a long pull of his beer. “They’d have probably just let you walk out of there if you asked nicely.”

Hannibal stared into the fire and Will looked at him carefully.

“Hannibal?”

Hannibal took another sip, managing to mostly cover his wince of disgust.

“Hannibal? Could you have gotten out of there?”

Hannibal didn’t answer and Will continued to stare at him, cogs turning in his mind.

“How many times could you have escaped?”

Will took another swig. “How many?”

Hannibal kept his gaze on the fire. “Seventeen.”

“SEVENTEEN?! Fuck, Hannibal.”

Hannibal clucked his tongue in disapproval. “You’ve grown vulgar in your death, Will.”

“I haven’t died,” Will responded obstinately, “I’ve just been changed.”

The last word hung heavy with meaning between them until Will spoke again, his voice low and quiet.

“Why didn’t you escape?”

“For the same reason I allowed myself to be captured, Will.”

Will nodded at that, sighing heavily and took another drink.

“You’re in love with me.”

Hannibal folded his hands into his lap and looked at Will patiently.

“You didn’t need Bedelia du Maurier to tell you that.”

Will set his empty bottle down. “So she was right?”

Hannibal took a pensive drink. “Bedelia was always very astute in her observations of my affection for you.”

“That sounds like a confirmation to me.”

“If you wish it to be.”

“I don’t know what I wish,” Will said, and took out another beer. “I know I need another drink.”

“Tell me, Will,” Hannibal said, “Does it bother you more that a man may have these desires for you, or that it is I who may have them?”

Will let Hannibal’s almost-confession settle into his brain. “I don’t know. It’s all melded together now.” He took another drink, then looked at Hannibal, who was regarding him with cool impassiveness.

“I don’t know if any of it bothers me.” He sighed into the fire. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to fuck you,” he added, then shook his head at himself, chastened. He hadn’t had a drink in a while and the beer was beginning to fuzz the edges of his decorum.

Hannibal seemed alarmingly unoffended by his outburst. “Interesting. You will murder with me but draw the line at fornication.”

“That’s… it’s not… those are two completely different things.”

“Are they, for us?”

Will’s mind flashed back to the night with Dolarhyde, to the blood painted in great swatches over both of them, the look in Hannibal’s eyes as Will finally succumbed to himself, to the both of them. He had spent more than one evening pleasuring himself to the thought of them moving and slicing in tandem, before curling up in shame and swearing never to have those thoughts again.

“I suppose they’re not that different,” Will said. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for, Will?”

The calmness of Hannibal’s tone was beginning to set Will on edge and he took another deep pull from his bottle.

“Damnit, Hannibal, will you stop ‘Dr. Lecter’-ing me for a moment? This isn’t your office and I’m not that Will Graham anymore.” He exhaled wearily. “Just be truthful.”

Hannibal opened his mouth to speak and Will held out a hand. “None of this ‘in my way I always have’, crap. Be real. Like you were on the cliff.”

He closed his eyes and could smell the seafoam and the stars and the rust of death, could see the vulnerability on Hannibal’s face and hear the soft tremor in his voice as he said ‘for both of us’. He hadn’t seen that Hannibal since the fall, and he missed him terribly.

“I don’t believe I can be real,” Hannibal said quietly.

“Could you at least try?” Will pleaded.

“What I mean, Will, is that I do not believe that _I_ am real. I do not believe that this is real, that you are sitting opposite me. That you have killed with me,” he took a more substantial drink, “and embraced me.”

“I did pull you off a cliff after that.” Will added, and had the grace to look remorseful.

“And that should have been our death,” Hannibal said. “Every moment since then is borrowed.”

“No,” Will said, “Every moment since then has been true. We fought to live when we pulled ourselves out of the ocean. I fought to stay. With you. Even if I don’t fully know _why_ yet.”

He took another two bottles from the case and stood, crossing to sit next to Hannibal.

“All I know is that I need to be here,” he said softly. He opened each bottle and placed one gently at Hannibal’s feet. “This isn’t my death, Hannibal. So it sure as hell can’t be yours.”

Hannibal looked at him, and for a moment Will could see the need aching within him, but he turned away quickly and picked up his bottle. “I don’t know how you can drink this dreadful beer,” Hannibal said, taking a drink regardless.

“Sometimes we love dreadful things,” Will said, staring into the fire.

Hannibal stilled next to him. “You would say you love this beer.”

Will took a swallow and tried to choose his words carefully.

“I would say… there are things that you can’t help to love even if they want to kill you.”

He turned to Hannibal and fixed his eyes upon his. “Maybe you love them because they want to kill you.”

“Will,” Hannibal said, his eyes dark and yearning.

“There you are,” Will said, smiling, and turned to lean his head on Hannibal’s shoulder.

He took his free hand and rest it lightly on Hannibal’s knee. “I’ve missed you.”

Hannibal placed a hand upon his and let his head fall onto Will’s. He exhaled loudly and Will heard him take another drink.

“You made a good fire,” Hannibal said, “I worry it might be too big.”

“Please, Hannibal,” Will laughed, “there’s no one for miles around. And if anyone does come looking I’m pretty sure we can take them.”

Hannibal tightened his hand over Will’s. “You would kill again with me?”

Will nodded slightly against Hannibal’s shoulder. “If we have to. And we’ll probably have to.”

“There is a difference between necessity and want.”

Will lifted his head. “If you’re asking me if I want to go on a murder spree, the answer is no.”

He blinked slowly and drained the last of his bottle. “If you asking me if I enjoyed killing with you… that’s a different answer.”

Hannibal reached out a tentative hand and brushed a curl from Will’s forehead.

“How far you have come, my dear Will.”

Will turned to Hannibal, eyes pleading.

“Will you say it?” He swallowed thickly. “It will help me understand why I’m here if I hear you say it. Why I _chose_ to be here,” he amended.

Hannibal moved his hand to cup Will’s cheek, his eyes searching yet lost.

“I-,” he began, and Will saw his heart beating open and raw in his gaze. He stayed staring, softly stroking the healing scar on Will’s cheek.

“Please, Hannibal,” Will said, and inched closer to him.

The air between them seemed to let out and then expand, and Will felt an unbearable tightness within him. In this moment he could read Hannibal as clear as day, but he needed the unspoken truth to help him cross over the last line of his own defense. He saw Hannibal’s trembling need to speak it, and his palpable fear to do so, lest this all wink out of existence, a cruel trick within a trapdoor of his memory palace. Will could think of no other recourse of encouragement than touch, and so closed up the last of the empty space between them and leaned to press his lips to Hannibal’s.

He had barely grazed Hannibal’s mouth before Hannibal shot back as though the flames from the fire itself had licked at him. He stood quickly, knocking his remaining bottle over and letting it dribble into the grass.

“This was not my intention.” He brushed perfunctorily at the legs of his trousers. “I’m sorry, Will. Good night.”

Then he turned and strode briskly back into the cabin, the air empty save for the crunch of his shoes in the snow.

Will watched him walk away owl-eyed, blinked once, then shook his head.

“What the fuck?”


	2. Chapter 2

“What the fuck?” he said again, only this time he had unceremoniously flung open the door to Hannibal’s bedroom. Never once had he done this without knocking, but he was possessed with a fury that stripped away the vestiges of what little politeness remained to him.

“What the hell was that, Hannibal?”

Hannibal, for his part, was half undressed, shoeless and in his undershirt. He refused to look at Will and began to fold his shirt as though Will’s wild intrusion was all part of customary bedtime procedure.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what the hell I mean! I try to kiss you and you-you reject me? I thought this was what you wanted!”

“I didn’t reject you, Will.” Hannibal said thoughtfully, “and if it is what I wanted, this is not the way in which I want it.”

Will sighed angrily and dragged a hand down his face. “I don’t even know what that means.”

Hannibal set his shirt down and looked at Will. “I don’t wish for the first time I touch you in this manner to be tempered by the influence of alcohol.”

Will laughed hollowly. “Newsflash, Hannibal. The first time we do anything is going to be the first time I’ve done anything with a man. There’s going to be alcohol involved.”

Hannibal looked genuinely pained for a moment, then composed himself. “Then I believe it is best we don’t pursue this avenue. You are here, Will. For that I am thankful.”

“Oh, stop it,” Will scoffed, “Enough. I know you, better than I care to. You’re choosing to wander the halls of your memory palace when I’m actually standing here. That’s not why I stayed. That’s not why I fell.” He looked into Hannibal, and they both knew he was no longer talking about the cliff.

“I want to try this,” Will said, and the moment the words came out he felt uncomfortably exposed. Hannibal’s gaze sharpened on him in the dim light of the room.

“I want to try this,” he said again, “if you want to try this too, well,” he gestured to the room across the hallway, “you know where I live.”

With that, he closed the door to Hannibal’s room and entered his own, slamming the door behind him.

He stripped down to his t-shirt and boxers, flopped onto his bed and exhaled a frustrated sigh. He lay silently on his back and stared up through the small skylight above his head. The night sky was overcast and thickly black, he searched for any source of a star and found nothing. He felt as though he were looking into Hannibal’s eyes.

He lay there in impotent anger for several long minutes until the door to his room quietly opened. He closed his eyes and turned on his side, knowing he looked like a child in the midst of a tantrum, but he was past the point of caring. Will could feel Hannibal standing behind him, and heard him set down what sounded like another bottle onto his bedside table.

“I don’t want another beer,” he muttered petulantly into the shadows.

“It’s not beer,” Hannibal replied gently.

Will turned over to face him and looked at the bedside table. The bottle Hannibal had placed there definitely did not contain beer.

“I am not suggesting we make use of it tonight,” Hannibal said, “or at all. But you say you want to try-”

“And I meant it,” Will said. “Come here. Please.”

He sat up and shifted himself up the bed, gesturing for Hannibal to sit next to him. Hannibal had stripped to his underclothes and chose to sit decorously above the sheets.

“I have not often had sexual desires towards men either,” Hannibal said. He turned to look at Will. “I did not have them towards you, at first. They grew with my love.”

It was the closest Hannibal had come to saying the words Will needed to hear, and in that moment it was enough for him.

“Maybe the same is true for me,” Will said. “I’d like to find out.”

“Now?” Hannibal asked, and his voice trembled with uncertainty and hope.

“Yeah,” Will said gently.

The kiss was unsteady at first, clumsy as first kisses often are. Will wasn’t quite sure where to put his hands and set them gently on Hannibal’s shoulders. He was surprised to find that Hannibal’s lips were pleasantly soft under his, and he began to relax under their gentle pressure. Neither of them sought to deepen it, they simply sat, kissing in light hitching rhythms, until Will began to flush and pulled away.

“Well?” Hannibal said.

Will pressed his lips together experimentally, reliving the new sensation. He felt a tiny spark set up residence deep within his stomach and turned back to Hannibal. His breath caught in his throat as he saw the naked affection within them, and the spark spread into a small flame.

“There,” he said, and took Hannibal’s face in his hands, willing that vulnerable gaze to stay. He tried to mirror it with his own, to reflect all that he felt that was still unspoken back into Hannibal’s eyes.

“Here,” he whispered, and whatever Hannibal saw in him was enough, as he dipped his head to claim Will’s mouth again.

This time their footing was sure, and Will molded himself easily against Hannibal’s eager touch. He felt a small whimper issue from the back of his throat and clutched at the back of Hannibal’s head, tilting a fraction to ease the opening of his mouth against his. He slid his tongue against Hannibal’s, hot and wet, with slow glides that sent tendrils of electricity straight to his groin.

Hannibal tore his mouth away suddenly, panting and trembling.

He clenched his hands into fists and sprung them open, and Will saw he was vainly fighting for self-control.

“Hey,” Will said, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder, “we can stop.”

Hannibal shook his head, staring intently into Will’s bedcovers. “No, Will,” he said, “we can’t.”

He turned to look at him, then, all passion and confusion, and Will felt his heart tumble into the ocean all over again, except this time he felt sure he would drown.

“Then we won’t,” Will said, wrapping a hand around the back of Hannibal’s head and tugging him in for another kiss. Hannibal’s arms went around him, clutching and desperate, and Will kissed him as though he were breathing life into him.

He lay back on the bed, pulling Hannibal with him and slipping his hands under Hannibal’s undershirt to touch the warm skin underneath. He tugged up at the shirt until Hannibal broke free to pull it over his head, then dragged Hannibal’s mouth back to his, digging his nails into his shoulders. Hannibal pitched a keening groan into his mouth and ground his hips into Will’s. He felt Hannibal’s hardness dig into his belly, felt his own cock growing rapidly hard in response. Hannibal was holding onto him, inhaling him as though he were oxygen, and Will felt intoxicated. Here was the Hannibal he had been searching for, who had been so closed off in their weeks of healing that Will had begun to believe he had dreamed him. Here was the dream, very real and very hard, and kissing earnest wet kisses on the underside of his jaw.

“Hannibal,” he gasped out, “I need…”

Hannibal’s began to kiss a line down Will’s neck. “What do you need, Will?” he murmured before biting down softly.

Will moaned and bucked his hips, his now firmly erect cock pressing into Hannibal’s stomach.

“Touch me,” he pleaded, and was rewarded instantly.

Hannibal wrapped a hand around his cock and began stroking him through his boxers.

“Like this?” he asked, beginning to thrust against Will’s thigh.

“Yes,” Will breathed, “More.”

Hannibal shifted himself downward, dropping kisses along his path against Will’s collarbone, ribcage, hipbone, before he shucked Will of his boxers and took his cock in hand, stroking the length of him. He leaned down to press open, wet kisses against Will’s stomach through the thin cotton of his t-shirt, and Will groaned loudly.

Will reached his hand out to thread his fingers through Hannibal’s hair, stroking through and grazing a thumb against his cheekbone. Hannibal continued his ministrations with long, smooth strokes and Will dropped his head back against his pillow.

He cried out against the sudden loss of Hannibal’s hand, then cried out again when he felt Hannibal’s mouth sink down around him.

“Ffuuu-” he choked out, and tried valiantly to censor himself for the sake of his company, who now had his lips encircling the base of his cock, the length of his tongue pressed against him.

Hannibal raised his head, torturously slow, his tongue sliding up him in delicious waves, before coming to the tip and sucking hard. He felt Hannibal drawing flicking patterns with his tongue against the head of his cock and felt positively undone with sensation.

He raised his head from the pillow to take in the spectacle and saw that Hannibal had a hand between his legs and was stroking himself in earnest. This would not do.

“Stop,” he said, and reached down to tug softly at Hannibal’s hair.

Hannibal released him from his mouth, but deliberate and wanton. Will watched the head of his cock slide against Hannibal’s lower lip as Hannibal darted out his tongue to taste him. It was the most erotic thing he had ever seen in his life and he groaned at the sight of it.

Hannibal licked his lips, smiling, and crawled up his body. Will pulled him down for a deep, slow kiss before looking into his eyes.

“I want you,” Will said, “all of you,” and reached down to take Hannibal in his hand. Hannibal moaned into his mouth, and Will bit down onto the same lip that had just grazed against his cock.

“Will you let me,” he said against Hannibal’s lips, and felt Hannibal nod against him.

He pushed then, at Hannibal’s chest until Hannibal was on his back. He bent over him, hooked his fingers into Hannibal’s briefs and tugged down until he was free of them, then returned to straddle him, tugging his shirt over his head. Their cocks met in a sweet slide and Will wrapped his hand around both of them and began to stroke in tandem.

He reached out over them to take the bottle from the bedside table and pumped some liquid into his hand, returning to Hannibal’s spread legs and letting it drip down him. He arranged himself between Hannibal’s thighs, nudging him further open with his knees. He paused for a moment to take in the beautiful sight, Hannibal bare and open for only him, his whole body an instrument tuned solely for Will’s touch. Will began to stroke Hannibal in slow, leisurely movements, watching his hips tip up in pleading urgency.

He moved his attentions lower, pausing to add another pump of lube to his hand, before pressing his finger up against Hannibal’s hole. Hannibal cried out and Will paused his motion.

“I’ve never-” he said cautiously, “is this-”

“Yes,” Hannibal moaned, and pressed up against his hand.

Will smiled at Hannibal’s eagerness and pushed a finger into him. He’d had enough dalliances on adventurous evenings with himself to know what felt good, and crooked his finger up to stroke at Hannibal’s prostate. He continued to stroke firm but gentle as he felt Hannibal stretch, then added a second finger, stroking harder. Hannibal rolled his hips slow and easy, fucking himself onto Will’s eager fingers. Yielding to the feedback of Hannibal’s pleasure, Will wrapped a slick hand around his own dick and began to rub himself. He felt Hannibal loosening around his fingers and his cock began to drip.

“Please,” he heard, and wasn’t entirely sure who had said it. But he looked at Hannibal, saw the need that was surely mirrored in his own eyes, and stayed the motion of his hand. He shifted between Hannibal’s thighs and bent low over him, taking Hannibal’s mouth with his as he pushed his cock into him.

For a moment, the sensation overwhelmed him so greatly that Will thought he might black out. He steadied himself over Hannibal with a shaking elbow and let himself adjust, felt Hannibal open around him as he pushed further in.

“God, you feel good,” he breathed in to Hannibal’s gasping mouth, and let himself sink deeper still.

He continued his slow torturous entrance until Hannibal had him enveloped to the hilt, and he lay there buried inside him for a moment, almost burning from the heat. When Hannibal began pressing desperate hungry kisses against his neck, Will started to move.

He tilted his hips back slowly, moving in long, steady thrusts, Hannibal’s exquisite tightness already beginning to untether him. He planted sloppy kisses against Hannibal’s cheek and jaw, murmuring strings of ‘God, Hannibal’, ‘so hot’, and ‘so good’ against his flesh. Hannibal could only say one thing, over and over; Will’s name, in increasingly fierce and fervent tones.

Will began to thrust harder, bending lower so he could better feel the friction of Hannibal’s cock flush up against him. He bit down into Hannibal’s neck, hard enough to bruise, and Hannibal’s hips bucked sharply up in response.

“Will,” Hannibal pleaded, and Will shifted the angle of his thrusts, pitching the head of his cock to rub hard and tight against Hannibal’s sweetest spot. He felt Hannibal’s arms seize and clutch at him desperately and moved his mouth to suck wetly against Hannibal’s throat.

“Hannibal,” he groaned out, “you feel…”

He traced a hand down Hannibal’s side, grabbing his hip and digging his fingers in hard.

“You make me feel alive,” he finished, and kissed him savage and fierce, lips and teeth and tongue pledging his undying obeisance to this godly creature who stirred such fire within him.

Hannibal thrust back against Will, crying out in fevered ecstasy, and Will felt a flood of warmth as Hannibal’s cock pulsed between them. He kissed his tenderly as he came down, slowing his thrusts as the aftershocks rattled through him.

Once Hannibal started to drift back to earth, Will rose up onto his knees, jerking Hannibal’s thighs open and gripping tight. He felt Hannibal’s come sliding down his belly and a rush of power washed over him. He reared back and thrust, deep and hard, baring his teeth in a feral snarl.

“Mine,” he said, fucking into him as though each thrust were a promise.

“Mine,” he said again, eyes blazing.

“And I’m yours,” he growled, succumbing to the wild heat around him. “God, I’m yours!” he cried out, holding tightly to Hannibal as he came in a blazing flash that whirled around and through him, enveloping him from rib to fingertip and soaking his body in bliss.

He collapsed onto Hannibal, heaving deep breaths as Hannibal circled his arms around him, pressing kisses to his sweaty hair.

“How I love you Will,” Hannibal murmured into the side of his neck.

Will raised himself up on one arm and smiled down at Hannibal, stealing a quick kiss from his pleasantly curving mouth.

“See?” he said, “Was that so hard?”

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: [lovecrimevariations](http://lovecrimevariations.tumblr.com/)


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